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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23730955">Mother Hen’s Bootcamp</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylizard/pseuds/starrylizard'>starrylizard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Firefam Feels, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:40:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23730955</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylizard/pseuds/starrylizard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He felt his foot go out from under him, there was a brief intense pain and then time slowed down as he was falling toward concrete unable to stop himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mother Hen’s Bootcamp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They’d started this thing recently. A bootcamp of sorts that happened any day of the week when they had lots of downtime. It was Hen’s idea after being dragged to some women’s bootcamp group that she really didn’t like, and she’d commented that they could do it better. So, each week someone would set up a circuit from the things they had in the gym or get inventive with their other surplus firehouse equipment. The idea was to do as many reps as you could at each activity while they took turns to run the full distance of the outside of the fire station. </p><p>It got competitive. Buck loved it. </p><p>He was running, really hitting his stride as he careened around the third corner of the building, heading for the home stretch, when his foot slipped on a rock.  He felt his foot go out from under him, there was a brief intense pain and then time slowed down as he was falling toward concrete unable to stop himself. Then he was on the ground, wind knocked out him, leg throbbing and that’s when everything sped up again. </p><p>Buck rolled over and scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall behind him. He clutched at his ankle. It was hard to breathe, the sun was too bright, the air too thick to pull into his lungs. Shit, shit, shit, not the leg, not the leg. After all he’d done to get back in shape, to push through, to get back in with his team… Buck’s head hurt just thinking about it. His heart was beating a staccato rhythm of fear, anger, hurt, frustration . . . No, no, no, no . . . The thoughts looped and spiralled and grew, as his breathing grew louder and more ragged in his ears. Until they became everything. </p><p>Something gripped his shoulder and he jumped. “It’s okay, Buck. It’s me, Hen. Can you look up for me?” </p><p>The touch seemed to pull him back from somewhere. The world started to snap back, albeit with a narrow focus as he looked to, and then followed, the hand that was firmly planted on his shoulder, then up to an arm and then higher until he reached a familiar face and concerned brown eyes. “Hen?” he choked out, finding his throat was so very dry. He swallowed, but it didn’t do much. </p><p>“There you are. You had us worried, so they sent me out as the next runner.” Hen did a certain thing when she wanted to instil calm. Her voice got a little rougher, her tone a little softer. Buck had once called it her ‘mother-Hen’ voice, but he was in awe more than anything, because it worked. People calmed down when she used it. “Can you try to take a few deep breaths with me?”  Hen’s grip on his shoulder was solid and real. Buck breathed in a shaky breath, then out again in time with hers. Only realising then that he’d been breathing too fast. He also realised, with not a little embarrassment, that she was using her ‘mother-Hen’ voice right now and he was very glad it was working.  “That’s right, keep breathing, in and out, nice and slow.” Hen continued demonstrating and Buck followed without question.</p><p>Her hand moved from his shoulder and he made little noise at the injustice, point of comfort lost for a moment, but then her hands were back feeling around his head, carefully back down to his shoulder and arms, down his sides. . .  “Just keep breathing, Buck. Nice and slow.  Does it hurt anywhere else? Did you hit your head, or is it just the ankle?” </p><p>Buck’s awareness fully snapped back at the mention of his ankle. “My ankle? Is my leg. . .?” He found he was still clutching at his ankle with one hand. At some point though his other hand had moved to clutch at Hen’s t-shirt instead. “Is it okay?” he asked, realising as he said it how his voice carried his raw desperation to the point that Hen couldn’t possibly have missed it. </p><p>“Hey, let me look, alright?” Hen gently prodded at Buck’s hands and he released his grip on both his ankle and, more sheepishly, her shirt. He planted his hands instead on the concrete, grounding them there against the rough surface as he tried to concentrate on Hen rather than let his thoughts get the best of him again. </p><p>Hen caught Buck’s eyes with her own and he nodded, dragging in a deep breath that had Hen give him a small approving hum. She gently manipulated his ankle through the range of motion and Buck grunted whenever it caused him pain, but he was honestly surprised at how much the pain had already eased while he’d been. . . what exactly? Panicking? </p><p>“Seems like a mild sprain at worst, Buck. You’ll live.  Your leg’s fine too.  Just grazed knees and hands to show off to the ladies.”  </p><p>Buck felt a well of giddy relief bubble to the surface and he met Hen’s eyes carefully. “You’re sure?” </p><p>“Yeah, Buck. We’ll put some ice on it inside. Lunch should be ready soon. Come on.” Hen stood up, stretched and reached out a hand, waggling it in invitation. Buck happily grabbed hold, laughing as Hen used her considerable strength to pull him up to stand on his uninjured leg and ducked her shoulder under his arm. </p><p>By the time they made it to the front entrance, Buck was giggling uncontrollably with relief and Hen, apparently finding his laughter infectious, was giggling too. They probably looked like two drunks leaving a bar at some ungodly hour of the morning. Hen was taking more than her fair share of Buck’s weight, holding him steady as he hopped and weaved about.  </p><p>“You two all right?” Buck looked up to see the Cap, dishtowel hanging over his shoulder, making his way down the stairs. </p><p>Buck couldn’t seem to pull himself together enough to answer, just giggled harder to the point of doubling over if it weren’t for Hen. Hen replied for him “Took a tumble and sprained his ankle, Cap. He’ll be just fine.” She gave a squeeze to Buck’s side where she was still holding him up. “You’re fine,” she repeated for his benefit this time. </p><p>Buck finally managed to stop giggling and beamed a smile at her, “Thank you, Hen.” </p><p>Then Eddie was slotting himself under his other shoulder taking more of his weight as they helped him upstairs. Chimney appeared with ice packs and bandages, fussing over him as a chair was moved closer so he could elevate his foot while they ate lunch. </p><p>“All this because I was finally going to beat you at bootcamp, eh?” He wasn’t sure who said it, but it was followed by lots of laughter as the team bumped fists and shoulders. </p><p>Buck closed his eyes a moment, taking in the clatter of plates and glasses. Cooking smells mingled with sweat and oil, and the sound of warm voices. Buck relaxed and breathed deeply. Everything was fine.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Un-betaed. Sorry about that, I haven't written anything for so long that I don't even know who to ask. I use British spelling.<br/>Comments are very welcome. I love comments. If you made it this far, thanks for reading. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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